as
it had been before. I let her straighten her legs.
“When you bring the check,” I said, “do so in your teeth.”
She looked at me, angrily.
“Do you understand?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“The check is to be paid, or put on the bill, I gather, at the keeper’s desk,” I
said. One had to pass the keeper’s desk after leaving the paga room. That
arrangement, I supposed, was no accident. For example, it would save posting of
one employee, which was perhaps a calculated economy on the part of the
proprietor. I would not have put it past him, at any rate. Too, in virtue of
this arrangement, one need not entrust coins to debtor sluts, slaves, and such.
In this house I suspected that they would not be permitted to so much as touch a
coin. They would be kept coinless, absolutely.
“Yes,” she said.
“Do you wish to say anything?” I asked.
“I hate you! I hate you!” she said.
“You may, after performing obeisance, withdraw,” I said.
Swiftly she performed obeisance, and then rose to her feet, and, moving
carefully, with small steps, as she could, hurried to the kitchen.
I would finish my bread, and nurse the paga for a time, and then retire to my
space. It was in the south wing, on the third (pg.76) level, space 97. I would
pick up my ostrakan, with the blankets, at the keeper’s desk. I wondered how I
might approach Ar’s Station and deliver the message of Gnieus Lelius, the regent
of Ar, to the commander at Ar’s Station, Aemilianus. If I appeared to be of Ar,
I might fall afoul of Cosians. If I appeared to be with Cos I might have
considerable difficulty in approaching the defenders of Ar’s Station. Still I
must do something soon. The siege at Ar’s Station, I had gathered, might be
approaching a critical juncture.
As I pondered these matters the door to the paga room burst open and the fellow,
fierce and bearded, who had been in the baths now appeared, in the uniform of
the company of Artemidorus of Cos, which, indeed, I had supposed must be his. He
wore his sword, on its strap over the left shoulder. This is common among Gorean
warriors, though not on the march nor in tarnflight. In this arrangement the
sword may be unsheathed and the scabbard and strap discarded in one movement. He
carried his helmet and the intriguing pouch which had caught my attention
earlier, that which he had carried with him even in the room of the baths.
I did not meet the fellow’s eyes, not wanting to explore the consequences of a
confrontation. I supposed I should permit myself, if the occasion arose, to be
bullied and humiliated, that I might not risk complications or delay in my
mission. Still, I am not always as rational as I might be, and if her threatened
or challenged me, I was not at all certain that I could summon the concealments
and coolness necessary to endure abuse. I am upon occasion too hot-headed, too
quick to act, too ready to respond to any insult or slight, real or imagined. It
is doubtless one of many faults. Perhaps I should be more like a Dietrich of
Tarnburg, who might dissemble plausibly, and then, later, when it suited his
convenience, and if it fitted into his plans, make his kills.
I did not raise my eyes but appeared to be concerned with the paga. I heard him
make a sound of contempt. I wondered if he noted that my hand closed more
tightly upon the base of the kantharos. I should try to control that. I think, I
myself, might have noticed it, in the movement of the upper arm. He stood there,
a few feet away. I began to feel insulted. Heat rose in my body. I controlled
myself. Surely that is what Dietrich of Tarnburg would have done. I did not look
up. Warriors, of course, are trained to rely upon peripheral vision. If he
approached me too closely, coming within a predetermined critical distance, I
could dash the paga upward into his eyes and wrench the table up and about,
plunging one of the legs into his diaphragm. Then in a moment I
it had been before. I let her straighten her legs.
“When you bring the check,” I said, “do so in your teeth.”
She looked at me, angrily.
“Do you understand?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“The check is to be paid, or put on the bill, I gather, at the keeper’s desk,” I
said. One had to pass the keeper’s desk after leaving the paga room. That
arrangement, I supposed, was no accident. For example, it would save posting of
one employee, which was perhaps a calculated economy on the part of the
proprietor. I would not have put it past him, at any rate. Too, in virtue of
this arrangement, one need not entrust coins to debtor sluts, slaves, and such.
In this house I suspected that they would not be permitted to so much as touch a
coin. They would be kept coinless, absolutely.
“Yes,” she said.
“Do you wish to say anything?” I asked.
“I hate you! I hate you!” she said.
“You may, after performing obeisance, withdraw,” I said.
Swiftly she performed obeisance, and then rose to her feet, and, moving
carefully, with small steps, as she could, hurried to the kitchen.
I would finish my bread, and nurse the paga for a time, and then retire to my
space. It was in the south wing, on the third (pg.76) level, space 97. I would
pick up my ostrakan, with the blankets, at the keeper’s desk. I wondered how I
might approach Ar’s Station and deliver the message of Gnieus Lelius, the regent
of Ar, to the commander at Ar’s Station, Aemilianus. If I appeared to be of Ar,
I might fall afoul of Cosians. If I appeared to be with Cos I might have
considerable difficulty in approaching the defenders of Ar’s Station. Still I
must do something soon. The siege at Ar’s Station, I had gathered, might be
approaching a critical juncture.
As I pondered these matters the door to the paga room burst open and the fellow,
fierce and bearded, who had been in the baths now appeared, in the uniform of
the company of Artemidorus of Cos, which, indeed, I had supposed must be his. He
wore his sword, on its strap over the left shoulder. This is common among Gorean
warriors, though not on the march nor in tarnflight. In this arrangement the
sword may be unsheathed and the scabbard and strap discarded in one movement. He
carried his helmet and the intriguing pouch which had caught my attention
earlier, that which he had carried with him even in the room of the baths.
I did not meet the fellow’s eyes, not wanting to explore the consequences of a
confrontation. I supposed I should permit myself, if the occasion arose, to be
bullied and humiliated, that I might not risk complications or delay in my
mission. Still, I am not always as rational as I might be, and if her threatened
or challenged me, I was not at all certain that I could summon the concealments
and coolness necessary to endure abuse. I am upon occasion too hot-headed, too
quick to act, too ready to respond to any insult or slight, real or imagined. It
is doubtless one of many faults. Perhaps I should be more like a Dietrich of
Tarnburg, who might dissemble plausibly, and then, later, when it suited his
convenience, and if it fitted into his plans, make his kills.
I did not raise my eyes but appeared to be concerned with the paga. I heard him
make a sound of contempt. I wondered if he noted that my hand closed more
tightly upon the base of the kantharos. I should try to control that. I think, I
myself, might have noticed it, in the movement of the upper arm. He stood there,
a few feet away. I began to feel insulted. Heat rose in my body. I controlled
myself. Surely that is what Dietrich of Tarnburg would have done. I did not look
up. Warriors, of course, are trained to rely upon peripheral vision. If he
approached me too closely, coming within a predetermined critical distance, I
could dash the paga upward into his eyes and wrench the table up and about,
plunging one of the legs into his diaphragm. Then in a moment I
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